Makka Na Ito
by NiiSiiChiiChan
Summary: Arthur's new in school, town, and country. Coming from England, he's in need of adaptation. That all comes crashing down as some blond haired blue-eyed daft American crashes into his family's car before they've even made it home. What will happen to them?
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Makka Na Ito

**Rating**: T? Maybe M? Idek yet.

**Characters**: Most of the Hetalia characters, plus a few more made up ones.

**Pairings**: USxUK, FrancexCanada, SealandxLatvia, and that's all I can think of right now. -Shot;

**Summary**: Arthur's new in school, town, and country. Coming from England, he's in need of adaptation. That all comes crashing down as some blond haired blue-eyed daft American crashes into his family's car before they've even made it home. Will Arthur ever be able to forgive this boy? Maybe even...love him?

**Word count**: 531

fffffffffff I should be shot. Dx

I know the title means "By A Crimson Thread", but I was listening to that song when I wrote this, so I was like "Well why the hell not?"  
...Yes, Alfred crashed into Arthur's car because he was searching for donuts on the floor. That's the reason.

Alfred's a bumbling idiot sometimes, but he's so cute~

And yes, it's an AU Highschool fic. I should get shot for that, too, because there's so many of them on , but I just wanted to have my own~ x3

I know this chapter is quite short, but I'll try and make the other ones longer. Dx AND MAYBE I'LL FINISH THIS ONE. 8D

read&review,ne?~

* * *

"Stupid America…" Arthur groaned, staring out the car window at the rolling hills. His parents had ripped him away from wonderful England to live in the American countryside, because his father had gotten a new job. Arthur hated it. It didn't help, either, that his younger brother was so restless.

"Dad! Are we there yet?!" Peter whined, flailing his arms a bit. His game-boy had died, and now he was pestering _everyone_.

"Peter! Belt up!" His older brother shot daggers at him through forest green eyes. The youngster just turned to him.

"You're just pissy because you can't see Elizabeth anymore!" Peter smirked, sticking his tongue out at the other, who had half a mind to reach over and rip the dammed thing out of his mouth.

"Oh, you two," their mother intervened before any damage could be done. "Quiet down, alrigh'? We'll be home in a few minutes."

"Home is in England, thank you," Arthur sighed and turned his attention back to the rolling landscape outside. His mind was made up; he'd complain and hate America, but never whine about it. Nor would he accept it as his home, no matter what.

* * *

Alfred yawned loudly and rolled over in his bed. Man, he hated Sundays; almost as much as Mondays. You could never hate anything more than Mondays, though. His blue eyes wandered to the small digital clock on the nightstand, and he practically shot out of bed.

"Shit! One o'clock?! How long was I asleep?!" He rushed to the bathroom, throwing on some clothes and splashing his face with water. Thankfully, he'd showered the day before. Running a brush quickly through his hair, he frowned at the bit of hair that always seemed to stick up, no matter what. He then pushed his glasses on quickly and rushed out of the house, shouting a "See ya later!" at his brother.

Throwing himself into the car, he pulled out of the driveway quickly, threw the car in drive, and slammed his foot on the gas, turning around the corner quickly. He swerved a bit to avoid the oncoming car, breathing a quick sigh.

He was late to work. _Again._ An hour late, to be exact. His boss was going to _kill _him. Alfred scowled and cursed, leaning over to pick up a few donuts off the floor.

Not being able to reach, he leaned over more to reach the treats; his eyes flitting back as he turned onto the main road.

His fingers stretched to reach the donut sitting just a few centimeters from his fingertips, but a loud honk pulled his attention away for the sugary death trap.

Alfred shot up in his seat, gripping the wheel tightly as he tried to correct himself from drifting over into the left lane, into opposite flowing traffic. "Shitshitshitshit…" he muttered over and over as, in slow motion (at least to him), his car collided head on with a small, green, compact car.

* * *

"Henry! Look out!"

"Anne! I know what I—bloody hell!"

"Peter! Grab my hand!"

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, and grasped his little brother's hand tightly as they watched a car come head on into their small rental car.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur's eyes fluttered open slowly, and he squinted some. The white light from the room was too bright. He just wanted to close his eyes.

And then it hit him. A white room? Last he remembered there was an American car coming right for them. He remembered gripping his younger brother's hand, and his parents were screaming. There was clanging metal and screeching tires. His seat belt tugged on his chest, choking him, but restraining him.

Peter. Where was Peter? Arthur lifted himself up, feeling a jolt of pain go through his side. He gasped and placed a hand there. Stitches. Why did he have stitches in his side?

"Whoa there. Be careful," a quiet voice said. Glancing up, Arthur blinked at the unfamiliar face grinning down at him. "Well, you're finally awake. Thank God," the voice turned into a sigh, and the figure sat backwards into the chair next to his bed.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Arthur's thick brows furrowed and he looked the figure over. The boy had a bandage around his head and his right arm was in a sling. Had he been caught in a pile up with their car?

"Alfred F. Jones, at your service!" The boy grinned and winked, and Arthur felt his face heat up a bit.

"Right. And what're you doing here?" His hands gripped the sheets. "Where's my brother?"

Alfred's face seemed to fall and he scooted up some in his seat, leaning towards the Brit. "Your brother is in the pediatric ward i-in critical condition. Your parents, though, are fine; just a-a few broken bones," he nodded slowly.

Arthur's frown nearly tripled in size. "Peter…" he whispered. His eyes trailed down to his hands, then back up to the sky blue eyes. "You didn't answer my other question."

The boy laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head, smiling slightly. "I-I'm kinda the guy who crashed into your car…"

Arthur glared. This was the dumb American that was responsible for his brother in critical condition. "Get out of here," he said, trying his hardest to keep his voice as steady as possible. "Get the hell out of here!"

"W-whoa! Calm down!" The American raised his hand in mock defense.

"How can I calm down!? You crashed into our bloody car and put us in the hospital!" If his head wasn't hurting so much, Arthur would've decked the lad right in the face.

"H-hey! I'm really sorry about that…!" He frowned and slumped in his chair. He really did feel completely horrible. He didn't mean to crash their car, but he'd really wanted that donut. And he _still_ didn't get any.

"I don't care, just go away," The Englishman turned his head away, feeling the hot tears slide down his face slowly. He took in a shaky breath and wiped at his un-bandaged eye, making sure the other didn't see it.

"Look, buddy, I'm really sorry," the voice was gentle again. "H-hey," he touched the small shoulder lightly, frowning as it shook from silent sobs. The American racked his brain, thinking of something to get him off this subject. "You're new here, aren't you?"

The blond nodded and sniffled, covering his face with his hands. "Yes. We just moved here from England. Today," he added the last part quietly. It was almost completely irrelevant, but he had a feeling it wouldn't sit well with the other.

He was wrong. "Oh! So you're pretty new! Any idea what school you're gonna be goin' to?" The American's voice was so…cheerful; and his accent was so flat and nasally.

"I-I think it was Gakuen High…I'm not s-sure," Arthur stuttered over his words. His tears had stopped, but he didn't even notice. He was facing the other boy now, looking him right in the eye.

"Ah, my brother and I go to that school!" He grinned, seeming ever so cheerful about it.

"…Oh joy," The Brit groaned and lay back on the bed. "Just leave."

Alfred frowned. "Whaa? Why?"

"Because you just put my whole bloody family in the hospital! I'd rather not see you right now!" He shouted, covering himself in the blanket. "Just…leave."

The American sighed and stood up. He looked down at the other and frowned. He didn't even know the kid's name. It'd be nice to.

But, Alfred didn't want to over stay his welcome – though it was hardly that – so he left the room quietly and made his way down the hallway towards the pediatric ward.

Kyaa~ x3 I feel so awesome updating in a day 8D. Well, it hasn't even been 24 hours. xD; I feel so awesome.~ But anyways.

Here's some, er, shoutouts? xD; I don't really know what to call them. But it's to my reviewers as of this chapter!~ :3

**saryaThePuppet: **xD Yeah, I figured there was a lot so I was kinda iffy on updating this, but it seems to loved, so. ;w; Ahh, angst is the best, ne? xD

**Aikroa: **I know! D: Damn us Americans and out fatness. xD;;

**rae1112:** LOL you actually got that reference?! 8D –Hands you a deadly donut; Arthur won't~ orwillhe? :3


End file.
